


Living Room

by waffles_007



Series: Ball & Tat [4]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Chicago Blackhawks, M/M, Piercings, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-10-19 07:24:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10635072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waffles_007/pseuds/waffles_007
Summary: Tattoo & Body Piercing Shop AU! -- The Sex"Busy?"Duncan looks down at the page he's on and back up to Brent. "Not really—just reading." He shrugs. "Why? Got something in mind?" A small smile creeps across Duncan's face as he reaches out with one hand and wraps his fingers around the bare skin of Brent's leg where his sheer knee highs stop. Duncan's thumb strokes at the line of muscle that pushes out over Brent's kneecap."Maybe?" Brent's smile matches Duncan's, just a hint of one, but there's a mischievous quality to the crinkle of his eyes when he reaches down pushing Duncan's book out of his hands and in to his lap. Brent leans in, bracing his arms on the back of the couch and kisses Duncan, slow and deep and thoroughly, sliding his tongue in to Duncan's mouth as Duncan's hands slide their way up the backs of Brent's thighs.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the Ball & Tat AU
> 
> Duncan: Professional tattoo artist, in to light power play, multiple tattoos, few piercings
> 
> Brent: Professional body piercing artist, enjoys eyeliner and women's underwear, multiple piercings, few tattoos
> 
> Literally no plot, just sex. In the living room. Just because.

Duncan doesn't hear when Brent comes in to the living room, Brent's stocking feet silent on the plush carpet that covers the floor. He startles a little when he hears the 'hey' coming from right in front of him. Duncan looks up from where he's been sitting on the couch completely engrossed in his book; arm leaning on the side of the couch, legs tucked up on the cushions next to him. "Hmm?"

 

"Busy?"

 

Duncan looks down at the page he's on and back up to Brent. "Not really—just reading." He shrugs. "Why? Got something in mind?" A small smile creeps across Duncan's face as he reaches out with one hand and wraps his fingers around the bare skin of Brent's leg where his sheer knee highs stop. Duncan's thumb strokes at the line of muscle that pushes out over Brent's kneecap.

 

"Maybe?" Brent's smile matches Duncan's, just a hint of one, but there's a mischievous quality to the crinkle of his eyes when he reaches down pushing Duncan's book out of his hands and in to his lap. Brent leans in, bracing his arms on the back of the couch and kisses Duncan, slow and deep and thoroughly, sliding his tongue in to Duncan's mouth as Duncan's hands slide their way up the backs of Brent's thighs. "Legs on the floor." Brent mumbles in to the kiss and breaks away when Duncan complies, pushes himself back up to standing and takes a step back as Duncan's feet settle on the carpet.

 

"I like where this is going." Duncan mutters, the smile breaking fully on his lips as he drags Brent down in to his lap after tossing his book off to the side of the couch.

 

"Yeah?" Brent chuckles.

 

"Yeah."

 

Brent's legs spread wide over Duncan's thighs, feeling the denim of Duncan's jeans pressing against his skin as he settles further in to Duncan's lap. "That book any good?" Brent tilts his head to where Duncan's book sits on the side table.

 

"Not as good as this…" Duncan drinks in the sight of Brent: thick thighs spread over his own, the lip of Brent's skirt teasingly revealing only a few short inches of bare skin before everything disappears under the pleated fabric. Brent's shirtless too, silver rings on his chest making his nipples in to small hard nubs—Duncan can't help it when he gives a light playful tug and drags the pad of his thumb across Brent's skin. He keeps looking up until he meets Brent's eyes, vibrant and bright lined by deep blue eyeliner that really helps bring out the color. "Fuck—Brent…" Duncan's always amazed by how hot Brent looks.

 

"You just gonna sit there and look or…" Brent teases, preening a little bit, running his hands down his sides, letting his fingers rest on Duncan's on his thighs.

 

Duncan shakes his head and immediately leans forward, capturing one of Brent's nipple rings with his tongue, parting his lips around the nub, sucking gently at first, then gradually increasing the pressure with his teeth until Brent's gasping. A low chuckle rumbles in Duncan's chest as he licks, soothing and cool before moving on to Brent's other nipple. He feels when Brent's fingers tangle in to his hair, holding his head against Brent's chest, pulling slightly on the long auburn curls. He hears Brent hissing at the sting of his teeth.

 

Brent starts a slow roll of his hips, inching his way up further in Duncan's lap till he feels Duncan's hips against his knees and Duncan's cock, hard and stiff, pushing against his own. "Kiss." Brent breathes out, pulling Duncan's head away from his chest and tilting to meet Duncan's mouth, kissing hard, bruising their lips together. Brent can feel the little vibrations as Duncan hums in pleasure.

 

Brent breaks the kiss but stays close, using the tip of his tongue to trace the outline of Duncan's lips, spending a small amount of time flicking at Duncan's lip ring before working his way down along Duncan's jaw and mouthing up to the spot right under Duncan's ear that really gets Duncan going. Brent's lips kiss and suck at the tender spot, pushing his tongue in against Duncan's skin and dragging his teeth lightly around as he feels Duncan's hands roaming up and down along his back.

 

They stay like that for a bit, Brent softly grinding down in Duncan's lap—unhurried lazy movements—while he works his mouth over _that_ spot that has Duncan's mouth dropping open as small pants of breath puff out every now and then punctuated by a quiet curse or Brent's name.

 

Duncan's hands slide down, over the curve of Brent's lower back and down to the waistband of Brent's skirt, fingers dipping down under the elastic, splaying out over the swell of Brent's ass. The satin of Brent's panties is smooth and soft and Duncan can't wait to see which pair Brent's put on, even more so, he can't wait to peel them off. Duncan's fingers dig in to the meat of Brent's ass, pulling him even closer, harder against his body as their hips roll together.

 

Brent lets a groan escape his lips as the pressure increases, their cocks rubbing together, Duncan's through his jeans, Brent's through the satin of his panties and every once in a while a small wrinkle in Duncan's jeans will pull at the PA piercing at the tip of Brent's cock and it makes him bite his lips at the sensation. "Fucking touch me. Please." Brent asks eventually and Duncan's hands slide out from under the waistband of his skirt and disappear up under the front of the pleated fabric—but he doesn't obey yet.

 

Duncan's fingers work their way up across the thickness of Brent's thighs, up until his fingertips are playing with the sides of Brent's panties where they cut down along his ass, Duncan's thumbs rubbing up the creases of Brent's thighs, almost touching Brent's cock but not quite. Duncan's thumbs slide under the satin, he feels Brent's hair under his touch, rubs small circles, drags his thumbs down and down until he's brushing against Brent's balls and Brent's getting restless in his lap.

 

"Dunc—c'mon." Brent isn't whining but it's close and he wraps his fingers in Duncan's hair and gives a slight pull to make his point. "Stop teasing."

 

Duncan rolls his eyes fondly and lets out a mock sigh as his thumbs slide back up from Brent's balls and up the length of Brent's cock. "Better?"

 

Brent responds with groan.

 

Duncan's thumbs play under the satin, up and down Brent's cock, hard and smooth, stopping to play with the small metal ball that sits under Brent's crown from his piercing, pulling down gently then letting go, listening to the quiet noises spilling from Brent's mouth. Brent's fingers in his hair let him know when Brent's getting impatient, tightening in his curls and the pulls getting more and more insistent. "Impatient…" Duncan mutters and the fingers in his hair pull sharply for a split second. "Ok…ok…"

 

Duncan pulls his hands out from under Brent's skirt and flips the pleated fabric up, rucking it up as far as it will go at Brent's hips before smoothing his hands down over the sapphire blue satin that covers Brent's cock. Duncan can't help it—it feels so good under his hands and it looks—it looks practically obscene with the material stretching tight because of Brent's erection, the metal balls of Brent's piercing small lumps under the blue, the satin slightly darker right where Brent's tip pushes, leaking and dampening the panties.

 

Duncan licks his lips as he peels the panties down in front, watching as Brent's cock drops, heavy and hard as the panties pull away. The tip is slick and shiny with pre-come beading around the piercing and Duncan slides his finger across, gathering up the small drops before reaching up and sliding his finger in to his own mouth. He only takes a moment to savor the taste before dropping his hand back down and forming a fist around Brent's cock and starting a series of long slow strokes.

 

Brent's hands drop out of Duncan's hair and he hooks his arms around Duncan's neck, allowing him to lean back slightly and spread his legs further so he can rock his hips up in to Duncan's hand. "Fuck—fuck yes…" Brent groans out; Duncan's fingers are warm and just tight enough as he fucks up as Duncan's hand strokes down.

 

Duncan reaches down, pops the button on his jeans and pulls his own cock out of his boxers, gets it lined up the best he can against Brent's and repositions his hand so it's curled around the both of them—mostly—and tightens his fingers again. It feels fucking great pressing his cock against Brent's, feeling the rub of Brent's cock as Brent's hips rock up and down. It's hot and hard and skin on skin and the way his cock is leaking is slicking up the slide even more. Duncan closes his eyes for a moment and just lets the sensation bleed through him.

 

Brent's cursing, low and continuous, a litany of words running together and Duncan knows that sign—Brent's getting close, his hips aren't moving in time anymore, they're starting to stutter so Duncan stills his hand, letting his own cock fall from his grip and he tightens his fingers under the base of Brent's crown and tries to hold back the smile that threatens to break when Brent lets out an irritated whine. He knows how wound up Brent gets when Duncan does this—brings him to the edge then stops him—doing it over and over sometimes till Brent is pulling at his curls and demanding that Duncan just let him come.

 

Duncan waits—waits a bit more, then slowly starts to stroke Brent's cock again, leaving his own alone for the time being, watching Brent's face as Brent's eyes close and he starts panting again. Brent's dick keeps jumping every time Duncan's thumb drags across the tip and each time it makes Brent shudder and groan. Duncan stops again. And again. And Brent finally starts pulling at Duncan's hair, leaving one arm hooked around Duncan's neck, the other hand fisted in Duncan's curls pulling insistently, sharply. Duncan doesn't move.

 

"Dunc—fuck, please…" Brent whines looking down at Duncan, his pupils blown and face pink.

 

Finally, Duncan shakes his head and shifts his hips. "Get up."

 

"What?" Brent's voice is rough and shaking when he speaks.

 

"On the couch, on your knees. Face the back." Duncan directs, letting Brent's cock drop out of his hand and urging Brent out of his lap. He's pretty sure he hears Brent mutter 'asshole' as he gets up and gets himself repositioned on the couch.

 

Duncan leans in over Brent, tilts Brent's head towards his own and kisses him thoroughly, messily for a moment before pulling back, dragging his short nails down the length of Brent's back, down to the waist of Brent's skirt. He pushes the pleats up so they pool against Brent's lower back, held between the dip of his spine and the swell of his ass and his fingers work to peel the sapphire satin down, revealing Brent's plush skin, sliding the panties down over his thighs and pulling them off, one leg at a time as Brent remains kneeling on the couch.

 

Brent yelps when he feels Duncan's teeth set in to the meat of his ass and he curses at Duncan's chuckle when he hears it behind him. Duncan does it again—only on the other side this time—two matching red marks that are already starting to fade when Duncan runs his fingers up between Brent's cheeks. Brent digs his knees in to the couch, settling down a little further, spreading his knees a little wider.

 

Again and again, Duncan does nothing more than slide his fingers up and down, dropping down to his knees eventually behind Brent. He's stopping occasionally to rub small circles around Brent's hole, teasing with a hint of a fingertip, while his other hand drops and he's slowly stroking at his own cock—loose fist, lazy movements. Soon though, Duncan leans in, dragging his flattened tongue down between Brent's cheeks, mimicking the earlier movements of his finger, leaving a wet trail, circling Brent's hole, lapping back up and setting his teeth in to Brent's ass again. He hears Brent grunt.

 

Duncan savors this—he loves Brent's ass—loves _eating_ Brent's ass, loves pushing his fingers in to the plush skin, and loves the way Brent presses back against his face when he isn't moving as fast as Brent wants. Duncan works his tongue, wide flat strokes over and over Brent's hole, kissing every once in a while, leaning his cheek against Brent's skin when he groans and he tightens his fist on own cock for a second. Duncan gets Brent slick and wet with his spit, thoroughly laving and tasting Brent's skin before finally stiffening his tongue and dropping his hand from his own cock.

 

Duncan spreads Brent's cheeks with his fingers, exposes him fully and nestles himself up close, tongue pushing gently but insistently as Brent sighs and Duncan's tongue slides in. Duncan teases Brent here, just like everywhere else, dipping the tip in, withdrawing, dipping it in again and wiggling it around, pulling at Brent's rim as spit drips down his chin and down Brent's ass to his balls. Duncan groans in to taste, sending warm breath and small vibrations all around Brent's skin and he lets one side of Brent's ass go and curls his fingers around Brent's balls, slowly pulling and stroking his thumb over the small patch of smooth skin in between.

 

Brent's restless on his knees, shifting, pushing back against Duncan's tongue, pressing his forehead to his forearms. He drinks in every sensation—the wetness of Duncan's tongue in his ass, the slow slide of spit running down his ass, the pull at his balls, the ache in his cock—it's so much but it's so good. A broken moan slips out when he feels a finger slide in under Duncan's tongue, deeper than Duncan's tongue can reach, pressing and curling, teasing—always.

 

Duncan lets his finger slide in, feeling around, looking to press against Brent's prostate and he slides his tongue out as he does so, knowing the second he strokes Brent just right, Brent will buck back and tense up—and let out a string of curses. The noise Brent makes when Duncan slides the pad of his finger against the bundle of nerves is nothing short of a keen so it does it again—and again, still holding Brent's balls in one hand, gently squeezing.

 

"Fuck—fuck, Dunc—fucking fuck—" Brent grits out between groans and he pushes back even harder. "More—jesus, fuck, more…"

 

Duncan keeps it up, keeps stroking his finger till he can feel Brent shaking and he slowly drags his finger away, adding a second when he slides back in. It's wet with spit but not really slick so Duncan fumbles his hand blindly under the couch until he pulls out a half used bottle of lube that (thankfully) must have gotten kicked under there at some point. He flips the top and drizzles the viscous liquid down on to his fingers on an out slide, listening to the distinctly wetter sound when he pushes back in.

 

Duncan fingers Brent, twisting his wrist, scissoring his fingers, stretching Brent out and he leans back in, licking around Brent's rim, dipping his tongue back in with his fingers from time to time. Duncan can hear Brent panting above him and he can feel Brent's body trembling as Brent tries to keep from moving too much.

 

But it's hard and soon Brent's dropping a hand to his cock, and groaning loudly when his fingers wrap tight around the base of his crown as he tries to keep steady breaths and tries to keep himself from coming until Duncan's cock is buried in his ass. "Fuck me—now, shit—fuck." Brent demands, voice whining and hot.

 

Duncan slides his fingers in, presses against Brent's prostate one last time feeling Brent shudder and tighten around him before carefully withdrawing and standing up. He shucks his pants and boxers, pulls his t-shirt off over his head and tosses it the same pile. Duncan wraps his fingers around Brent's hips for a moment, pulls him closer to the edge of the couch, urges Brent's legs further apart so Duncan can rest his knees on the edge of the couch in between Brent's thighs. He slicks his hand with lube, runs it a few times over his own cock, drizzles a bit more down Brent's ass, rubs his fingers one more time over Brent's hole before lining up his cock head and starting the gradual push in.

 

Brent's tight. Even though he's been fingered it hadn't been by more than two and not for too long so it takes a moment as Brent relaxes at the much thicker press of Duncan's cock in to his ass. Duncan's patient, closing his eyes and biting his lip as Brent takes him in, feeling the warmth and the wetness enveloping him and before long his hips are pressed against Brent's ass, and his thighs are resting against the backs of Brent's thighs and Brent is telling him to _move._

 

Duncan does. He rolls his hips, still pressed flush against Brent, slow, measured movements, starting a series of short truncated thrusts, barely pulling out before pushing back in, staying deep, fingers curling in to Brent's hips to hold him still. Brent's cursing him, demanding more, harder, faster, fuck—anything—and Duncan obliges. Pulling out further, about half-way, before sliding back in, working his way up till his tip pulls at Brent's rim, the balls of his own PA piercing tugging on the tip of his dick each time.

 

The piercing just enhances _everything_ —for both of them, pulling at the tip of Duncan's dick, the added slide and sensation as it pushes along in to Brent's ass. It rubs over and over Brent's prostate on each slide and Brent's a panting mess before long with the unending pressure. "Fuck—fuck—touch me—fucking touch me—" Brent manages to force out between grunts and moans and Duncan drops a hand to Brent's cock and matches his thrusts with his circled fist.

 

Brent's hips work back on to Duncan's dick and forward, fucking up in to Duncan's fist and he's gasping for breath, sweat trickling down his temples and dampening the hair that curls at the back of his neck. He feels Duncan's tongue sliding up his spine hot and wet then cold and chill when the air hits where Duncan's tongue has been. There's so much sensation going on and Brent's hips stutter and stutter again, and then it's just about too much when Duncan changes the angle of his hips and thrusts in hard and deep and Brent lets out a broken cry and comes, covering Duncan's fist, hot and slick while Duncan strokes him and fucks him through it.

 

It's tight—so tight—when Brent comes, Duncan bites his lip and squeezes Brent's hip and fucks him with hard erratic thrusts until he holds himself against Brent's ass as his cock twitches and he fills Brent's ass with come. Fuck—Duncan feels himself shaking as he comes, Brent's ass still so tight around his cock and he drops forward, blanketing himself against Brent's sweat slicked back till the blankness in his head clears and he carefully slide himself out from Brent's ass—everything so sensitive now. He gently pushes Brent's hip as Brent bonelessly descends in to the soft couch cushions. Duncan follows, dropping down next to him, resting his forehead on Brent's shoulder, the two of them still foggy headed and catching their breath.

 

It's a long moment before either one of them mumbles something vaguely coherent and it's Duncan that speaks, words muffled in to Brent's shoulder. "That was so much better than that book…"


End file.
